


Candles In The Dark

by Flutiebear



Category: Dragon Quest Series, Dragon Quest XI
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fluff, Hannukah, Hannukah Fic, Holidays, Jewish Character, Jewish Holidays, Jewish Identity, LGBTQ Jewish Character(s), M/M, Maybe sit this one out, Morning Sickness, Post-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Pregnancy, Seriously if you haven't finished the game, Spoilers, Spoilers for Switch Content, because why not, ending spoilers, getting the gang back together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:35:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21903097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flutiebear/pseuds/Flutiebear
Summary: As the days grow shorter and colder, El shares one of his favorite holiday traditions with his friends and family. A series of Hannukah-themed vignettes, fluffy and sweet. Multiple ships inbound.
Relationships: Am I the first to use the Serena/Gemma tag?, Camus | Erik/Hero | Luminary (Dragon Quest XI), Dave/Sylvia | Sylvando, First Seremma I guess, Graig | Hendrik/Marutina | Jade, Huh - Relationship, Serena/Gemma, Subject to change as we go, Those are just the ones I have planned
Comments: 41
Kudos: 47





	1. The First Night

**Author's Note:**

> 'Tis the season for holiday fic! And since I rarely ever see any Hannukah stories, I decided to become the change I wanted to see. 
> 
> This one-off takes place in a universe totally separate from my other fics; Terran is Sir Not Appearing In This Film. Importantly, in this fic, when El breaks the Time Sphere, it completely resets everybody's memories, including his own, such that even he doesn't remember that Act 2 even happened. That seemed the happiest and kindest way to go about Act 3.
> 
> It's been a while since I played Act 3, so please forgive any minor canon inconsistencies!

Erik watched as El placed on the table a bundle of candles and a humble, wrought-iron candelabra with nine arms. "So how does this work, exactly?"

"Easy." El stuck one of the candles in the middle and another at the right-most edge, but left the rest of the candles on the table. "We light the middle candle, I say a couple of prayers, then we use that big candle to light the rest. Rinse, repeat for the next seven days."

"Huh. Okay." Erik folded his arms over his chest. Church stuff always made him nervous, no matter how nice that priest back in Sniflheim might have been. All that bowing and praying and talk about what happens after you die, as if the future were a debt you could never repay. It was enough to make a man go cross-eyed.

This didn't really feel like that, though—and for good reason, supposed Erik, since technically, it wasn't church stuff. The opposite of that, really. He uncrossed his arms.

"When we're done," El continued, oblivious to the depth of Erik's theological angst, "We'll put this in the window, then go over to my mom's house for some grub."

Erik frowned. "Leave? But what if it starts a fire?"

El laughed, a tinkling sound that made the knot between Erik's brows relent. "We'll move the curtains first. _Obviously._ "

"Even still—"

But El wasn't listening. Instead, he spoke some words in a language Erik had never heard before; a language that sounded old as the mountain walls that encircled Cobblestone, maybe even older. Then he followed up in trade tongue, " _Blessed are You, Adonai our God, Sovereign of all, who has kept us alive, sustained us, and brought us to this season."_

"Won't be sustaining anything for much longer," muttered Erik, "if we start leaving candles by the curtains."

El rolled his eyes fondly. "You're such a worrywart. Nothing's gonna burn down, I promise."

He raised his hand to the tallest candle in the middle and cast a cantrip, igniting it. Then, taking the candle in hand, he used it to light the smaller one, as he did saying more old words, and another prayer; then more old words, and another prayer.

And suddenly, there were two lights in the dark, instead of one. It was a small thing, really. But it made Erik briefly remember how he used to huddle with Mia under their sole blanket, watching the stars wink alive through the hole in their roof.

When El had finished, he replaced the tall candle in the holder in the middle of the candelabra, then stepped back to survey his handiwork, golden light reflecting in his eyes. He smiled, warm and soft and lovely.

Erik wrapped his arms around El. For a moment, they simply stood together, not moving, not speaking, just watching the candle lights play and dance in some cool, gentle draft. Erik shivered. The roof needed re-thatching, he thought idly. It was too late in the season to do it now; he'd have to take care of it in the spring. Along with re-mortaring the foundation behind the house, and fixing the rusted gate on the chicken coop, and resealing the front door…

That was the thing about having a home. There was always something to do, always something that needed doing. A whole future spread out before you, waiting, waiting.

"I love Hannukah," murmured El, bringing Erik back from his thoughts.

"Yeah?"

El nodded, resting his temple against Erik's. "It's my favorite holiday. I mean, I know it's not _that_ important, not compared to Yom Kippur or Passover or even, like, Purim," he added bashfully, like he had something to apologize for. "But I've always sort of liked the idea of a few tiny candles pushing back the dark, together making the world a brighter place."

Erik nuzzled his nose into his neck. "You would."

El smiled as he kept his eyes on the candelabra. "Once a Luminary, always a Luminary, I guess."

"Wouldn't have it any other way," Erik said, and meant it.

After another minute, El patted Erik's hand. "Let's get going. Mum will be asking where we are."

Instead of letting him go, however, Erik tightened his embrace.

"In a minute." Smiling, he pressed a kiss into El's shoulder. He swore that if he was still enough, he could almost feel the warmth radiating from the two candles before them, small and insignificant though they might be. "Amber will be there when we're done."

And it was true. She would be there, her and Sandy and Cobblestone and all of Erdrea. The future was spread out before the two of them, waiting, waiting.


	2. The Second Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veronica and Mia come to visit. Mia shows off a new skill, while Veronica (once again) saves the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got away from me. So much for my target of 1,000 words or less per chapter. Oops.

The next afternoon, Veronica arrived, with Mia in tow. Veronica had traded her teacher's frock for her old traveling dress, down to the jaunty red cap; while Mia wore one of her Academie uniforms, as dusty and road-worn as if she'd rolled down the mountainside path to Cobblestone—which she might very well have done. The hem of it grazed her knees; Mia now had several inches on her brother, much to Erik's dismay.

"What on earth are they feeding you?" he muttered, eyeing the seaming on another of her uniforms. Hopefully he still had enough cloth left over in the bolt to add a few more inches; else, he might have to cannibalize the dish towels to make up the difference.

"Food," Mia said simply, as if that explained everything. Which, Erik supposed, it did.

"Keep this up and you'll be too tall to fit through the doorway." He held up one sleeve to the fading light. Would the headmasters raise a fuss if he added cuffs? The crimson ones from his pirate king coat might suit.

"If you ask me, it's that Viking blood," said Veronica, to which Mia smiled brightly. "When you finish your schooling, maybe Davé will let you join his crew."

Erik scrunched his mouth. He wasn't sure which idea bothered him more: That Mia might have even an drop of honest Viking blood in her; or the idea that his little sister might be left to sail the world unfettered, with only a pushover like Dave to rein her in.

"Too bad the same trick doesn't seem to work on _you_ ," he said, with a sly smirk Veronica's way. "You just eat and eat and never gain an inch."

Erik's barb landed flat, however. "I beg your pardon!" In her chair by the fire, Veronica puffed up her shoulders like an irritated chickadee. "I gained _three_ inches this term. See?"

Erik gave her a once over. Veronica did seem somewhat taller, if he squinted, and thinner in the face. "So you did. Maybe soon you'll even lose your baby teeth."

Growling in annoyance, Veronica opened her mouth to no doubt levy some devastating insult or another. But Mia spoke first.

"Don't be such a _jerk_ , Erik." Leaning over the table, she grabbed the baguette that El had baked earlier that morning and started gnawing on the end, like a beaver to a log. "She's my teacher, you know."

"Exactly," Veronica sniffed, satisfied. "I'm her _teacher_ , you know."

"Wait, _you're_ teaching _her?"_ When Veronica nodded, Erik groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Great. Just great. That's exactly what my little sister needs: the ability to set things on fire with her mind."

"She _already_ has that ability. I'm just teaching her how to use it properly." She gave Mia an appraising look. "Wouldn't you know it, but she's rather gifted at it."

As Mia flushed at the praise, Erik narrowed his eyes. "No, actually, I wouldn't know it. Where was this gift six years ago, back when we were freezing our butts off in Sniflheim?"

Mia shrugged, unconcerned. "Got me. Sure would've been nice, right?"

Erik scoffed. "Yeah. _Nice."_

"It _did_ take some effort to get out of her," acknowledged Veronica. "It's like she had her magic locked away in her brain or something. But now she's Frizzing and Sizzing with the best of them."

At this, Mia grinned and snapped her fingers. On her fingertips, a little flame danced to life.

He goggled at her in wonder.

But before Erik could make sense of what he was seeing, the door thudded open. In the doorway stood El, laden with firewood.

"Hey, love. Chopped us some more—oof!" The logs clattered to the floor as Mia threw herself at El; she didn't so much hug her brother-in-law as collide with him, like a charging bull. Together, they staggered back through the doorway.

"El!" she squealed, her toes doing a little tippy-tappy two-step with excitement as she hugged him. Warmth bloomed in Erik's chest at the sight.

Laughing, El squeezed her back, then ruffled her bangs. "Hiya, kiddo. Good to see you. Hey, did you get taller?"

She grinned at him. "I'm taller than Erik now!"

"Which I'm sure he's just _delighted_ by," El said, sending Erik a warm, knowing look. Then he spotted their other guest, sitting by the fire. "Veronica! Get over here!"

"Wait, no, don't you even think about—" However, whatever she was going to warn him not to do was lost as El hauled her up out of the chair and spun her around in a crushing embrace. When El once again put her back on her feet, twin spots of color had bloomed on Veronica's cheeks.

"Ugh," she said in a tone that suggested the opposite.

"You two got here just in time." El picked up the logs and set them by the stove, giving Erik a quick peck on the cheek. El smelled like cold skin warmed by sweat. "The sun just set over the Tor. We need to light the hannukiyah."

Veronica and Mia traded confused looks.

"We'll show you," said Erik, reaching for the candles.

***

Afterward, with three candles twinkling in the window, El, Mia and Veronica gathered around the kitchen table, sharing a platter of fruit and cheese and what was left of the bread after Mia had attacked it with such gusto.

Meanwhile, Erik set about making the latkes. However, they were proving difficult; no matter how long he let them go, the recalcitrant potato pancakes barely took to the oil at all.

"…it's an old magic, the kind not really practiced anymore," Veronica was saying as Erik labored over his pan. "In layman's terms, I have to convince my body to age, while my mind remains as it is. It's really rather fussy."

"Right up your alley," Erik muttered half-heartedly, poking at one of the sodden latkes.

"I _told_ Krystalinda that it wasn't necessary, that I was content to go about things the natural way, but she simply wouldn't be denied. It's never wise to argue with an ice witch twice your height and a thousand times your age. We start treatments after the break." Veronica took a bite of her apple and chewed it thoughtfully. "I can't say it won't be nice to go to bars again without a chaperone. Not that I can tolerate my liquor as I am now, anyway," she added grumpily.

El frowned. "Is it safe? The magic, that is."

"Safe enough," said Veronica. "As safe as magic ever gets anyway."

It was a fair answer, but if anything, El's brow darkened even more.

"What is it?" asked Erik gently.

"There won't be any," El fumbled for words, " _time_ magic, will there?"

"Time magic?" Mia's eyes grew wide. "As in, turning time forward or backward? But that's not even possible, is it?"

"Of course not," said Veronica. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Good." El's frown eased. He sighed in visible relief.

"Time magic, _honestly_." Veronica squinted at him. "Where would you even get a pie-in-the-sky idea like that?"

El's expression took on a dreamy quality. "I'm not sure, actually. I just have a… feeling, you know? About playing with time. That it's a bad idea."

Erik nodded. They'd all had feelings like that, now and then: Not quite déjà vu, not quite a premonition—more like instinct, if it had to be described as anything. He used to get them a lot back on their journey to fight Calasmos, but even now, Erik sometimes still felt twinges, such as when light caught on metal and gleam. Sometimes, too, he had the strangest dreams, as if he were walking through a fog, without knowing where he was walking or with whom.

He couldn't really explain why the feelings or dreams occurred; he'd always just chalked it up to being a legendary hero. That sort of thing probably happened all the time to Erdwin.

"Well," said Veronica, "You can set your mind at ease about it, because I know pretty much everything there is to know about magic, and I can tell you that mucking about with time simply isn't possible."

"If you know so much," needled Erik with no small glee, "then how come you still needed Krystalinda's help?"

Veronica's mouth puckered. "Shouldn't you be focusing on the _food_?"

Erik turned back to the latkes with a grimace. "It's just—not cooking. I don't know what's wrong. Maybe the stove's busted."

"Did you clean out the firebox?"

"Yes, I cleaned out the firebox," he sighed in annoyance, "I wasn't raised in a barn."

"It was a cave!" Mia added helpfully around a mouthful of pear.

"Hmm." Veronica pushed up from the table. "Well, let me see."

"You don't know how to cook," Erik protested as she elbowed him aside. 

Veronica wrinkled her nose at the blackened mush in the pan. "What on earth is _that_?"

"Latkes," he said glumly, not meeting El's eye as he fished the pancakes out of the oil. If he'd known he'd botch the food _this_ badly, then he would've let El handle the cooking, as he'd offered to in the first place. But oh no, he had to go and try to _impress_ his husband. He sighed. "This batch is ruined."

"You _think?_ " She put her hand over the pan. "For one, your pan isn't nearly hot enough to fry." Grabbing a mitt, she opened the grate to the firebox beneath the stove. "Good thing I'm—"

Then Veronica stopped herself. Slowly, she smiled. 

"Good thing _Mia's_ here, I mean," she said.

Mia blinked. "Me?"

Veronica rolled her eyes. "Are there any other Mias in this room? Come over here and show your brother what you've been learning."

With a grin that threatened to split her entire face, Mia came over to the stove. She stared into the firebox for a moment or two; then, with a grunt of effort, shot a small fireball into it.

The stove's innards flared to life.

Erik shook his head in disbelief. His baby sister, a mage. He still couldn't quite wrap his head around it. But weirdly, it was also kind of…comforting? Getting to watch Mia grow up had been an unexpected joy, probably the biggest in his short life; and it was nice to know that she could still find ways to surprise him.

"There," she said, closing the grate. "Should get hot enough soon."

Veronica held her hand over the oil. After a moment, she nodded in approval. "Well done, Mia."

The young girl grinned, and flounced back happily to the table.

Veronica, however, made no move to return to the table.

"No, no, no," she snapped, as Erik began to drop the pancakes into the oil, one by one. "You can't just _dip_ them, Erik. You're frying them, not giving them a rubdown at the sauna. _Urgh._ Just let me do it."

"But you've never done this."

"Yet somehow," she said, "I'll manage it better than _you_."

To Erik's equal consternation and relief, she did.

***

After Mia had finally had her fill of latkes, she dragged El by the fire, leading him through a game she'd picked up at the Academie, something involving little stones and a small wooden board. Meanwhile, Veronica sat with Erik at the table, her with a mug of tea and him with spiked hot cider, each of them nibbling on the crumbs that Mia had left in her wake.

"That girl and her shinies," grumbled Erik, watching her and El play. "She's such a magpie."

"You should see her room at the Academie. It's positively glittering with trash." Veronica shook her head fondly. "She's a great thief. At least one of you is."

"Hey, I taught her everything she knows."

"Not _everything_ ," said Veronica with a grin.

"Yeah, I guess not that." Erik stared into his mug, watching the steam curl off the top, then tightened his hands around the ceramic, letting the warmth seep into his fingers, his heart, his soul. "I'm glad you're there, Veronica. To keep an eye on… things," he added, with a meaningful nod at his sister.

Veronica looked like she was fighting a smile. "I'm glad to, even if things are stubborn, headstrong, and positively infuriating, just like their brothers."

Erik frowned. "Don't tell me she's not fitting in there."

"Oh, she's fitting in, alright. A little _too_ well, if you ask me. When she's not trying to break into the headmaster's office and steal his medal collection, she's off recruiting all the new girls into her gang."

Relieved, Erik laughed. "At least she's making friends."

"More like _associates,_ " muttered Veronica.

He shrugged. "Like brother, like sister."

"Don't I know it."

Despite the heat of their words, they smiled at each other over the rims of their mugs.

"Wipe that dopey look off your face." She rolled her eyes. "You look _so_ weird when you smile. Like you think you've personally invented happiness, or something."

"Maybe I did," he laughed.

She stuck out her tongue. " _Ugh._ Don't you be going soft on me."

"Wouldn't dream of it, short stuff," he replied.

"Idiot."

"Grublin."

"Hedgehog."

"Can't argue with that," he said with a laugh. That got Veronica snickering, too, while in the window, the little flames on the menorah burned a little brighter, a little hotter, their combined light making Erdrea a little less dark, if only by inches.


	3. The Third Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serena comes to visit. Gemma makes a fateful decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I was reading through the Act 3 party chats to write this game, I rediscovered Serena's super-massive, ill-fated stealth crush on Sylvando. Poor Serena, but also, girl got good taste. (Midnight_Marimba has the most amazing pan!Sylv/Dave/Serena/puppypile fic, Diamond, that digs more deeply into it; go check it out.)
> 
> Anyway, sorry for the momentary sads. Keep reading to the end, though! That's where the happy lies!

On the third night of Hannukah, most of Cobblestone congregated at Mayor Dunstan's home for an impromptu party welcoming the arrival of the beloved sage, Serena. She was beloved by the Cobblestoners for many reasons, including but not limited to that business with the Luminary; but mostly she was beloved for her cakes: dazzling, towering confections which somehow always arrived from Arboria still piping hot, as if she'd only just removed them from the oven. 

Soon Dunstan's house was bustling with chatter and activity, which only increased when Gemma brought out a platter of miniature pies brimming with cinnamon-flecked pumpkin custard. The desserts were a little sweet for Erik's taste, but Serena devoured hers—then his, then another, and another.

"Slow _down,_ Serena," said Veronica. "Your teeth are going to rot out your skull."

"Mmmmph," she moaned, her eyes fluttering shut. "Bu' fis pum'k'n pie if _fo_ _goo'_."

"I sure am glad you like it," said Gemma. Tonight, she seemed a little subdued, not at all the perky lass that had featured in so many of El's stories about his childhood. What's more, her gaze kept darting Erik's way, so much so that he began to wonder if he'd somehow offended her. He couldn't imagine how, since he'd barely spent five minutes with her in the six months since he and El had set up in Cobblestone. Still, even now, she was sizing him up, like a pup sequestered from its pack.

"Pumpkin pie is one of Gemma's specialties," said El. "She's been making them ever since we were kids." His voice rumbled against Erik's back, squished together as they were on one of Dunstan's easy chairs; and between El's body heat and the roaring fire and the pair of strong arms circling his waist, Erik felt warm and sleepy and content. "I couldn't ever get enough of 'em. Mom used to joke that Gemma was fattening me up for the harvest."

"I was just practicing," she said quietly.

"For who?"

She averted her gaze at last. "For me husband."

"Oh, who's that?" said Mia, craning her neck toward the front door as if she expected the gentleman to walk in at any minute. "Is he coming tonight?"

"I don't have one. Excuse me." Standing abruptly, Gemma drifted over to one of the tables, where Serena had constructed a miniature jackpot tower, filled with homemade gelt.

Erik watched her go, then leaned back to murmur in El's ear, "Is something up with Gemma?"

El frowned. "How do you mean?"

"I dunno. She seems kinda—sad?" Erik's gaze drifted over to Gemma again, just in time to see her pick up one of the chocolate coins only to set it down again so she could wipe her cheeks with the back of her hand.

El's mouth twisted. "She gets like that sometimes," he acknowledged.

"You wanna go talk to her or something?"

"Nah, whatever it is, she'll get over it soon." El tightened his arms, and Erik wondered if El knew more about the cause of Gemma's distress than he was letting on. "I'd probably only get in the way of it."

Erik wondered if he ought to push harder, but ultimately, Gemma wasn't _his_ childhood friend, just a neighbor he barely ever saw. There was nothing for it but to trust in his husband—even if said husband's arms presently were tight enough to be mistaken for anacondas.

"Oy, budge up," muttered Erik, nudging El with his elbow. "I gotta hit the head."

El let him go with a sigh so heavy that it was as if Erik had asked him to climb Mt. Pang Lai barefoot. " _Fine_ ," he said. "But come right back. You're keeping me warm."

"I will," said Erik, tapping El on the nose. "Don't let Sandy take my spot."

"No promises," El laughed, and with that Erik headed out the door and toward the outhouse.

When he'd finished his business, Erik stopped by the stable to check on their horses and give them a little extra oats and pats. He was on his way back to the mayor's house when he heard voices over the ridge.

His thief instincts pinging, Erik drifted closer to investigate.

"—reckon I should just move on," someone was saying—Gemma. "But maybe it wouldn't be near as hard if he weren't around always."

There was a great sniffle, then the sound of a nose blowing.

"Isn't it just the daftest?" she continued in a watery voice. "I used to pray every day for his safe return, and now that he's back, I keep on hoping he'll pick up and leave again."

"It isn't daft at all," replied a voice like a songbird. Serena. "In fact, I think I know precisely how you feel."

"You do?" asked Gemma at the same time Erik mouthed the same.

"On our journey to defeat the Dark One, I too fell in love with someone who didn't love me back." Her voice softened; suddenly, Serena sounded much older than her years. "Oh, he was so very kind, and handsome, and dashing… I trusted him from the moment we met. But," she sighed, "It simply wasn't meant to be."

"Did he," asked Gemma in a small voice, "fall for someone else, too?"

"Oh, he'd always been with Davé, even before I could walk and talk. It was rather hopeless of me, really."

Erik's mind reeled. Serena had had a thing for _Sylvando?_ But Sylvando was so—so—

Actually, Erik mused, on second thought, it made total sense. Half of Erdrea had a thing for Sylvando—and the other half just hadn't met him yet. If Erik hadn't been so smitten with El from the jump—so to speak—he'd probably have ended up besotted, too.

"However did you get through it?" asked Gemma.

"Day by day, I suppose. It wasn't easy. But I tried to focus on other things. My shop. My customers. Myself." Serena's tone gentled even further. "You mustn't punish yourself because he chose someone else. He might have been your first love, but there's no reason why he must be your last."

"I guess."

There was a pause, in which Erik's heart ached for Serena and Gemma in equal measure. He regretted nothing, of course, but he also hadn't ever considered how his and El's situation might appear from Gemma's perspective; he'd been so happy that he assumed that all of Erdrea must share in their happiness, too.

"Hey, I have an idea," said Serena suddenly, "Why don't you come with me to Arboria? You can help me in the cake shop. Perhaps you could teach me how to bake those delectable little pies that you made tonight."

"What?" Gemma clapped her hands to her mouth. "But I couldn't do that!"

"Whyever not?"

"Arboria's so far away," she protested, "And everyone I know is here."

"That's no trouble! Why, I can Zoom you back any time you like. Veronica taught me ages ago, so that I could visit her at L'Academie any time I wished," said Serena. "And who knows, perhaps a fresh start is just what you need. It did the trick for me."

Gemma hesitated before speaking. "A fresh start, huh?"

"Consider it doctor's orders," said Serena brightly.

Some time passed, and the dark continued to gather, as did the cold. Erik wanted to get back to the party, but he also wanted to know Gemma's answer. He wasn't sure why—what Gemma did or didn't do mattered very little to him personally—but he wasn't a cruel sort; and she _had_ meant so very much to El, once upon a time; and besides—he felt a little like a candle that wanted other candles to be lit, just for the sake of light. 

"Okay," she said eventually. "Maybe for a little while."

"Oh, goody!" shouted Serena. There was the sound of fabric rustling, and a soft little 'oof' as no doubt Serena had no doubt launched herself at the other woman. "I'm ever so excited! It'll be so much fun, you'll see!"

"Uh, me too," said Gemma, sounding completely flustered.

With a smile and a lighter heart, Erik walked back to Dunstan's house, his way illuminated by the four little lights in the window, dancing as gleeful as stars in the breeze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Proto Serena/Gemma! For this vignette, I came up with this complicated backstory where Serena and Akia (the girl from Gondolia) open a cake shop in Arboria, but at first nobody comes because Arborians have never been exposed to something as blatantly hedonistic as sugar, and so Serena decides she needs a good marketing campaign--which is where Gemma comes in. And so the three ladies have many adventures and also maybe a lot of cuddles and smooches and they call themselves Angel Food Cakes and their logo is the giant statue of Serena with a fork in one hand and a cake in the other, and everybody lives happily ever after. Ah, one day.


	4. The Fourth Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hendrik and a very pregnant Jade arrive. Finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Jade. I had exactly the same condition she does when I was pregnant. It stinks! Thank goodness she's got a mountain of a man to lean on...

On the fourth day of Hannukah, it began to snow: great, fluffy flakes that clumped in the air well before they ever hit the ground. It looked like something out of a storybook. Erik had no fond feelings for snow—he'd seen far too much of it as a kid—but even he could acknowledge this particular snow was objectively beautiful, even peaceful in its own quiet way, as so much of Cobblestone was.

"I hope Jade and Hendrik get here soon," muttered El as he placed the hannukiyah in the window. One whole side of it had been filled with lit candles, and it was halfway to being a decent light source. "It's not safe to travel in the mountains in the snow at night."

"Weren't they supposed to be here this morning?" said Erik, setting out another batch of latkes to cool. Once Mia and the twins came back inside from climbing the Tor, they'd probably be starving. Good thing Cobblestone grew enough potatoes to feed an army.

With his hands on his hips, El gazed out the dark window. "I wonder what's taking them both so long."

"Probably Jade's gotta take lots of breaks." He mimed retching with dramatic flair.

"Gross, love," said El with a laugh.

Erik righted himself with a smile. "Should we take the horse and look for them?"

El nodded. "Okay. But we should leave a note for—"

At once there was a great thudding against the door. It wasn't quite a knock—more as if someone had fallen heavily against the wood. Someone, or something—a mountain, maybe.

Erik and El traded glances. El went to the door, while Erik discreetly palmed the butcher's knife. The monsters were all gone and Cobblestone was peaceful enough, but you could never be too careful.

Carefully, El opened the door—revealing Hendrik, looming as tall and broad as ever. In his arms was the Princess of Heliodor, who he carried bridal style. Despite the chill outdoors, beads of sweat lined the temples of both husband and wife.

"Greetings," boomed Hendrik.

"Ugh," moaned Jade, who looked rather pale and drawn. "Not so loud, dear."

"Sincerest apologies, my love." When he spoke again, his voice was much softer, down to almost a normal speaking volume. "Greetings, friends. My deepest apologies for the tardiness in our arrival. The Princess is feeling…" He searched for polite words, "…under the weather."

"I think they can see that for themselves, Hendrik." She gestured vaguely toward the fire. "The chair, please?"

"At once." With brisk, strong strides he set Jade gently on the easy chair, then arranged her feet upon the cushion as delicately as if he were arranging flowers.

Jade sighed, hand to her temple. "I'm alright now, Hendrik. You can stop fussing over me."

"But—"

"That's an order."

Hendrik's spine went rigid, his decades of military training overriding husbandly concern. "As you wish."

Crisp as a commander in the prime of his service, Hendrik turned to El and Erik, who had watched this exchange with no small amazement—or amusement. "My friends and hosts, it is good to see you, but I fear our long-awaited reunion must be delayed a few minutes further. Obsidian must needs be seen to the stables."

Erik crossed his arms. "Honestly, he can probably find his way himself," he said. "He's one smart horse."

"Be that as it may." Hendrik turned back to his wife. "Do you require anything else, my dear? A blanket, perhaps? A hot compress? A slice of le—"

Jade cut him off with her hand. "Stop. Fussing."

With a bow to his future queen, then to his friends, Hendrik took his leave, the front door swinging firmly shut behind him.

"Finally." Jade sighed. "He's utterly impossible sometimes."

Erik shrugged. " _You_ married him."

"Sometimes I wonder if I shouldn't have chosen Lieutenant Carver after all," muttered Jade. She leaned her head back on the chair with yet another sigh—or was it a moan?—and rubbed her slightly distended stomach.

El approached, arms outstretched for an embrace, but she waved him off. "I'm sorry, but I simply could not tolerate a hug right now. Not unless you want me to retch all over your shoes."

Quickly, he dropped his arms. "How about some tea instead?"

She inhaled sharply. "Goddess, no. No tea. Nothing that has any sort of smell at all." She eyed Erik up and down, then wrinkled her nose. "You stay away from me, please. Nothing personal."

With a frown, Erik went to the stove. "I'll—uh—just make some hot water."

El sat by his sister as Erik puttered with the kettle, then discreetly sniffed his shirt. El asked, "How are you feeling? Any better?"

"Do I look as if I am feeling better?" she snapped. Then she sighed, rubbing her forehead. "No. Sorry. That was rude of me, I apologize. The truth is, I feel much the same, except worse, because now I am so tired from not being able to keep any food down. Hendrik carried me the whole way, but I feel as if I were the one who carried _him_."

"The whole—" Erik's eyes popped. "He carried you all the way _from Heliodor?"_

Jade nodded.

"But that's three days' ride!"

"He insisted." She shook her head and smiled fondly.

"But you had a horse!"

"Riding Obsidian was making me nauseated. As most things do, nowadays." She settled herself more into the chair, her eyes fluttering shut. The green look around her face was starting to ease, replaced with bone-weary exhaustion. She looked asleep already.

"Isn't this supposed to ease after the first trimester?" asked El gently.

"So I was told," she said in a betrayed tone. "But apparently, that's only for _most_ pregnancies. A lucky few get to experience the sickness throughout their pregnancy. Day, noon and night."

Erik held out a mug of warm water. El retrieved the mug, then returned it to Jade, who wrapped her hands around it gratefully. "Thank you," she said with a nod to El, then Erik. "Apparently my mother also had this sickness." She brought the mug to her lips, then had second thoughts. "No wonder I was an only child."

"Is there anything you could eat that would help?"

She frowned. "I suppose I ought to try. Do you have any watermelon? Honeydew? Strawberries?"

"Those are several months out of season," Erik pointed out.

Jade narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm well aware, thank you."

His cheeks colored, even though he hadn't stated anything other than basic fact. "How about an apple instead?"

Jade bulged her cheeks, as if she were just barely holding herself back, even though the crown princess of Heliodor would never do anything so undignified as stick out her tongue in disgust. "Do you have any doughnuts?"

Erik frowned. "What's a doughnut?"

"It's a fried piece of dough. Very light and fluffy. It's one of the only foods I've been able to hold down, mostly because it's barely a food at all," she grumbled.

El considered this. "You know," he said, "Mum might have some sufganiyot left over from last night. I'll go run and ask."

"No!" Erik cleared his throat to cover. "That is, heh," he chuckled, "I mean, I'll go. You stay with your sister. Talk about sibling stuff. Bond."

El smiled gratefully, and Erik breathed a sigh of relief that he wouldn't be trapped alone with his sister-in-law, who enjoyed giving him a hard time even when she wasn't five months along with child.

"Where is Hendrik?" said Jade as Erik tugged on his boots. "It can't have taken that long to un-tack a horse."

"I'll keep an eye out for him," Erik promised. He opened the door—

\--Only to discover that just outside the front door there was a massive Hendrik-sized depression in the snow. Above it stood the faithful Obsidian, nosing at an unmoving backside.

"He's fine," Erik called out behind him. "Just taking a break."

He shut the door and, stepping over the snoring Hendrik, made his way to Amber's house, where the leftover sufganiyot awaited.


	5. The Fifth Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snowball fight!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's nothing particularly Hannukah-y about this vignette. I just wanted to write a snowball fight. :)

Cobblestone's church was the newest structure in town. Built a generation ago under the guidance of an overly optimistic priest, it was as large as a fortress, and altogether too spacious for its current congregation. It presided over a rolling lawn, which at the moment was covered in fluffy snow drifts—as well as more than a dozen young men, and one Savior of Erdrea.

"The poor dears didn't have anywhere to go," Sylvando said to Erik, who watched his friend's newly acquired strays gambol and play in the snow with El like overeager kittens. "So Davé and I invited them to come with us."

"There's so… many," pointed out Erik.

"More the merrier, 's what me granny always said," said Davé.

Erik lifted his hands and shrugged, a gesture of equal parts amazement and resignation. He couldn't decide if Sylv's generosity amazed him a lot, or not at all. "Not that I disagree with Davé's granny," he said, "But where are we going to put them all?"

One of the men finished his cartwheel, stuck the landing, then turned to Erik. "We don't mind sleeping outside," he said. "We love to camp."

"Nonsense," said Veronica. "There's room at Erik and El's."

"Uh, where?" said Erik, frowning. "All our beds are already taken, as well as the spare pallets. I guess there's the floor, but—"

Veronica gasped in horror. "You'd make your guests sleep on the _floor?"_ She scowled. "You heartless _monster._ "

"Well, where would _you_ suggest?"

"How about the barn?" offered Serena.

"Wrong holiday," chided Veronica.

"I can't ask somebody to sleep there," said Erik. "Horses crap in there."

"How about the church?" offered Jade, sizing up the building before them. "It seems rather empty at the moment."

Erik nodded. "That might work. I'll go ask later."

"Look how fluffy the snow is!" said one of the young men. He stuck one finger into the nearest bank, then shivered in delight. "Ooh! It's _so_ cold."

"You know what this means?" said another. "Snowball fight!"

The troop of them fanned out into the snow, laughing merrily as they scooped up great handfuls with their bare hands and lobbed it at each other with no real attention paid to accuracy.

"I've got you now, Tetsu!" cried a third young man. He threw a snowball at the man named Tetsu, but missed by several feet.

Tetsu giggled. "Not if I get you first!" He too threw a snowball, and missed badly.

"It's a good thing they're not soldiers," said Erik, shaking his head. "The only way they'd win a war is if the other side laughed themselves to death."

"There are worse things in this world, honey, than young boys who don't know how to make war," said Sylv softly.

Erik glanced at his friend. There was no sharpness to his expression, but he resembled his father anyway: strong and bold and wise, like some sort of storybook chevalier.

"Huh." Erik, chastened, shrugged. "I guess you're right."

"Gentlemen," bellowed Hendrik, who had quite recovered himself after an eight-hour nap. He raised his hands. "Compose yourselves. This is conduct most unbefitting of—"

He was cut off by a snowball landing right into his open mouth.

Erik followed the snowball's trajectory back to its source. There stood two shocked young men with hands over their mouths as well as Jade, who was grinning like the cat who ate the canary as she dusted snow off her hands.

"Look at them all," said Mia. "They're so cute." She looked up at her brother with sparkling eyes. "I'm gonna go join them."

"Go easy on 'em, kiddo." Erik pointed his finger at her. "And no recruiting them for your gang."

"No promises," she said, winking over her shoulder.

Erik scoffed. Meanwhile, Veronica and Serena traded a look and a silent nod. Then with twin shouts like Valkyries descending from the heavens, they launched themselves into the fray. Even Sylv and Davé went charging in after them.

Just then, El ran up to Erik, red-cheeked, puffing. Snow clung to his hair and duster. "I'm getting too old for this," he laughed.

Erik brushed the snow out of his husband's bangs. "Look at you. Did you fall or something?"

"They snuck up on me!" El protested.

Erik's eyebrow quirked. "But those boys couldn't sneak up on a sleeping troll."

"Not _them_. Veronica and Serena!"

"Shameful," laughed Erik. He kissed El once, quick. "You'd better get back out there before Veronica starts to gloat."

"Not without you." He grinned. "I need my partner."

Erik rolled his eyes, but grinned anyway. El knew just what to say, didn't he?

"Fine," said Erik. "Let's go. I got your back."


	6. The Sixth Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> El and Erik (and everybody else) pay a visit to New Dundrasil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO SORRY this is coming late--technically AFTER Hannukah already wrapped up! I've been feeling very poorly for the past few days, and I haven't had much writing in me. I'm mostly back on my feet today. Hopefully I'll be able to get the last two chapters polished up soon!
> 
> Anyway, after the fact I realized I probably should add an explanatory note for all the non-Jews out there. The concept of "tikkun olam" or "repairing the broken world" is big in Judaism. There are lots of interpretations of what it means--obviously I went with a very literal one for this chapter, but it can also mean dedicating oneself to social causes and charity work. In that same vein, the candle lit on the sixth night of Hannukah is sometimes known as the 'candle of righteousness', and some of us like to donate to a specific cause of social justice on the sixth night. Hope that clears things up a little!

It took the better part of an hour for El and the twins to Zoom everyone to Dundrasil, moving as they had to in groups of three and four. Back on their heroic quest, Veronica had liked to boast that her magic was strong enough to carry twice as many people. But nobody, not even Veronica, was willing to put her bravado to the test, not then nor now. 

Eventually, they all made it to El's ancestral home, all twenty-four of them, just as the morning sun had begun to crest the far ridge.

As everyone got settled, Erik surveyed the construction. Though Dundrasil Castle was still a ruin, more buildings in the town had gone up since last he and El had visited: Not just wooden frames and tight-stretched tarps, but completed walls and thatched roofs. There seemed to be more people, as well. Laborers went about their work, while food vendors and supply merchants plied their wares. Nearby loitered other people whose occupation was less apparent, or who perhaps had no occupation at all.

There were children now, Erik noted with a smile. Not many. But some.

"Yer late," said a gravely voice. "An' ye brought half of Erdrea wi' ye, I see."

"Grandpa!" cried El, flinging himself at Rab with so much enthusiasm he knocked the crown clean off his pate.

Chuckling, Rab leaned his wrinkled cheek against his grandson's shoulder and smiled. "It's good to see ye too, laddie."

El pulled back just enough to be able to look his grandfather in the eye. "Sorry we're late. You know how Dunstan is. The moment Serena arrived, he insisted on a party, then there was a snowstorm in the mountains, and—"

Rab held up one hand, silencing El. "What matters is yer all here _now_."

"Of course." El hugged him again. "Oh, how I missed you!"

Rab's eyes curled into half-moons of delight. "An' who's fault is that? Ye could've asked _me_ to live wi' ye for ever and ever," he said fondly, "but oh, no. It had to be _him,_ didn't it?"

"Hey!" Erik crossed his arms and glowered, not so much at Rab but at the small part of himself that still wondered if El ever regretted his choice.

El's grandfather rolled his eyes. "Careful, lad. Yer face'll stay that way." He looked Erik up and down as if he were inspecting a pylon for a very important bridge. "Ye're looking hale and hearty, aren't ye? The domestic life suits ye."

Erik wasn't sure what to say to that, so instead he offered a brusque "Hmmph," and looked away so his sister wouldn't see his blush.

"Move," commanded Jade in her Royal Voice, splitting Sylv's collection of young men like a parted sea. "Princess with a baby coming through." She bent awkwardly and hugged Rab, though with much more care than El. "It's good to see you again, Rab."

"An' ye as well, lass." As he hugged her, Rab rubbed circles into a spot between Jade's shoulder blades; to Erik's amazement, the tension seemed to sag right out of the princess. "How's the tea workin' out for ye?"

Jade nodded. "It's been helping a little. After my cup last night, I even managed to keep down some bread."

"Good girl. Keep at it. It worked miracles for me wife; it'll do the same for ye." He brushed some hair back from her forehead, and his eyes softened. "Ye've got a girl, or I'll eat me hat."

Jade's mouth quirked. "I suppose we'll just have to find out."

They each went around and made their greetings to the King of New Dundrasil—Sylv and Dave alone spent a good ten minutes introducing each of their new friends—until Erik's eyes went cross-eyed and he'd lost count of all the people he knew. Had he really made so many friends on his journey?

When the last introduction had been made, Rab wiped his brow and appeared as exhausted as Erik. "I'm glad ye're all here. Ye must be famished after yer journey."

"I could eat," offered Mia.

"We've some refreshments in the main square. Follow me." Rab led them across the main courtyard to where a fountain was being constructed, and several food stalls were already in place. He waved a hand at the vendors. "Choose whichever ye like. It's on me," he said, and the group cheered and spread out to acquire food.

Erik was about to do the same, but a hand on his elbow stopped him. "Erik, El," said Rab in a lower voice. "Come. Lemme show ye what yer coin's been put to."

"I think we can see just fine," said Erik, waving his hand at the beams.

Rab grinned like the sabrecat that ate the canary. "Ye haven't seen the best part. C'mon."

Trading a shrug, Erik and El followed Rab up a hill, past houses and more houses, so many houses. It was gratifying to see so many people come back; Dundrasil might have been gone for almost twenty years—but in the hearts of its people, it had never truly been forgotten.

That's why, minus Mia's tuition and room and board, every cent that El and Erik had acquired on their journey had gone to the Drasilian reconstruction effort; and after that was gone, they'd dipped into their store of weapons and armor, selling them to museums and collectors to raise more funds. It wasn't cheap to build a city back again, and it was more expensive still to keep it going.

But, thought Erik with a smile, it was for a good cause—the best of causes. What better way to make use of old weapons than to put them to use in making buildings, and food stalls, and fountains, and smiles?

They came to the bottom of the Drasilian ruin. Rab gestured, sweeping his arm to where Queen Eleanor and King Irwin were buried. "Look over there. Notice anything?"

El's mouth fell open. His eyes filled with tears.

Erik squinted, not quite seeing what the big deal was. "A lot of sticks?"

"Not sticks," said El in a low voice. "Saplings."

"Just so." Rab smiled. The sadness that was always in his eyes was still there; but for once it didn't seem to pain him. "Apple trees, in fact."

"You're turning their grave into an orchard," said Erik, understanding dawning on him at last.

"She just loved to climb trees, ye know," said Rab in a low, soft voice. "I can't tell ye how many days I caught her, when she shouldae been at her studies or readying for an audience, in the boughs of an apple tree, lookin' down at yer father as if they were the only two left in Erdrea." He gave his grandson an unsteady look. "Ye like it?"

El nodded, his eyes glistening. Even Erik's throat felt tight. "I do," said El.

Erik counted the saplings. There were dozens. Hundreds, maybe. Soon they'd fill the entire place with shade and flowers and fruit; and then would come the butterflies and the chickadees, the rabbits and the foxes, and all the creatures that deserved to have their own pastoral idyll.

And it wouldn't just be this orchard. One day all of Dundrasil would be back on its feet. One day, this little piece of the broken world would be once more repaired, and that's all one could really do in a life, wasn't it? Find a plot of land, or a people, or a purpose—then put every last breath you had into making it better than how you found it.

Erik took El's hand. A bumblebee buzzed past his ear. Erik didn't brush it away, but instead watched as it gamboled slowly toward the saplings, curious, intent, alive.


	7. The Seventh Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> El teaches his friends how to play dreidel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had big plans for this chapter as a throwdown, winner-takes-all driedel tournament, but what happens here is much more in line with my own experience. Honestly, this conversation lasts longer than the vast majority of driedel games I've ever played. As a game, driedel sorta sucks.

"There are four sides," said El, showing the faces of the driedel to the players. "Nun, gimel, hei and shin. If the dreidel lands on nun, it means you get nothing. If it lands on gimel, you get everything in the pot."

The hannukiyah's firelight glinted keenly in Mia's eye. "But nun and gimel look the same. That doesn't seem fair."

"Gimel's the one with a tail," said El, tracing with his finger a slight heel at the bottom of the letter.

Mia squinted, unconvinced.

"Or a knife," offered Erik.

Mia's mouth opened in an 'O' of understanding. "Like it's going to shank you for taking everything!"

Erik beamed at her. "Exactly."

El's gaze bounced between brother and sister. Then he shrugged. "Whatever helps you two remember."

"This sounds like a rather violent game," said Serena, a faint line appearing between her brow. "Are you quite sure it's appropriate for young girls?"

Mia frowned. "Are you saying that young girls can't be violent?"

"I believe Lady Serena means that young women ought to strive for nonviolent methods of problem solving," said Hendrik, in the midst of rubbing his wife's shoulders.

"As should young _men_ ," said Jade sharply, even as she leaned into her husband's touch. "Though I wouldn't know much about it. When I was Mia's age, I was busy perfecting my roundhouse kick."

"Aye," said Rab, his mustache curving into a faraway smile, "I can still remember the very first time ye put yer boot through a brick wall."

"Such happy days," she agreed.

As Mia's eyes widened, Gemma waved a dismissive hand. "It's just dreidel. El and I used to play this all the time. Nobody needs to kick anybody, unless," she added with a hawkish glance El's way, "somebody _cheats._ "

El laid a hand over his chest and gasped in horror. "I am the Luminary _,_ Gemma. Erdwin's reincarnation, the Savior of Erdrea. I would _never_ cheat." He lifted his chin haughtily. "Sandy, on the other hand…"

"You're blaming the _dog?_ Oh _honey,_ " said Sylv, fluttering his eyelashes like he wasn't sure whether to be scandalized or impressed.

"Can I finish the explanation already?" said El in mock exasperation. "The other sides are hei, which means you get half the pot; and shin, which means you have to put another piece of gelt in the pot."

"Put gelt _in_?" asked Veronica, but it sounded more like "pu'g mpfh nn" around the chocolate she had stuffed in her mouth. She swallowed. "You ought to have _told_ us at the start that we'd need these treats to _play."_

"I thought it was a given." El rolled his eyes. "And what are you doing? You don't even like sugar."

"I do _too,"_ she sniffed, wiping away a little chocolate that had gotten on the side of her lip. "When Serena's made it, of course."

Her sister beamed at the praise, while Gemma bumped her conspiratorially with her shoulder, and from Erik's perspective it looked like something electric passed between them, but he couldn't be very sure.

"Can we just play already?" said Mia, bouncing impatiently on her heels.

"Let's," said Erik, "While there's still gelt on the table left to play with."

They all anted up. Then, as the youngest player, Mia gave the first spin, twisting the handle between her fingers with great gusto.

The top whirled and whirled, sides blurring but otherwise remaining in place. With breathless anticipation, ten faces bent low to watch the dreidel spin.

And spin.

And _spin._

Erik let out a long whistle. "That… really goes for awhile, doesn't it?"

"It's very well-balanced," said El proudly. "Chalky made it."

The dreidel kept going for several more heartbeats, with no indication of slowing down, not even a wobble.

"So…" said Jade, trading a look with Hendrik, "How long does it usually spin for?"

"A few minutes," said Gemma. "The longest we ever got it to go was eight, but then Sandy bumped the table."

"I _told_ you she cheated," said El defensively.

"More like she was pushed," said Gemma.

The dreidel kept going.

"I'm bored," sighed Mia. "Can't we just eat the chocolate now?"

El shrugged. "Go for it. That's usually how this ends, anyway."

They all reached into their pots and began to unwrap the gelt, as the dreidel kept on spinning and spinning. When at last it landed, almost two full minutes later, nobody even noticed.

It fell on gimel.


	8. The Eighth Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> El and Erik discuss the point of Hannukah.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap! This is probably the fluffiest, schmoopiest thing I'll ever write, so I hope you enjoyed it. 
> 
> Also, I will probably be taking a break from fic for a little while as other Big Projects command my attention. I mean, realistically, I might post something small here or there, but I won't be updating/uploading at nearly the same pace I've been keeping up for the past six months. But don't worry. I'm not gone for good! I'll see you in a couple months :)

On the eighth night, as El said the blessings and lit the hannukiyah one last time, it finally occurred to Erik to ask what the point of it all was.

"The point?" El tilted his head, as if he'd never been asked this before—and growing up in Cobblestone, surrounded by other folks as observant as he, maybe he never had. After giving the question a good minute's consideration, he shrugged. "It's the same as any Jewish holiday, I guess. 'They tried to kill us, they failed, let's eat.'"

Erik frowned. "Seriously? That's it?"

The corner of El's mouth twitched upward. "Sorry it's not a more elaborate story."

"Don't get me wrong. It's not that I'm not disappointed or anything." Erik set away the unused candles in their box as an excuse to search for the right words. "It's more that—well, do you ever celebrate anything that's _not_ about how somebody once tried to kill you and botched the job?"

El thought about it.

"Not really," he said after a while. "Maybe Sukkot—no, wait," he snapped his fingers, "That one's about us wandering the desert, after somebody _else_ tried to kill us."

Despite himself, Erik scoffed. "Your religion's kind of bleak, isn't it?"

"Is it?" El wrapped his arms around Erik's waist, nuzzling his nose into Erik's warm shoulder.

"Well, yeah." Erik waved his hands before him, trying to get El to see. "Someone's always trying to kill you!"

El grinned. "But they never manage it."

"Sure, but—"

El kissed his neck, right in the sensitive spot, so that Erik's voice broke off in a sigh. "Love," El grinned against Erik's bare skin. "It's not meant to be bleak. It's meant to be joyful. Besides, I'd think that _you,_ of all people, would appreciate 'I lived' as a reason to throw a party."

Erik harrumphed without any annoyance. "I dunno, sounds more like Sylvando to me."

"And _you_ , too." El squeezed his arms. "Just think: All the things you went through, all the hardships you faced – you survived them, Erik. We all did. And now you get to live here with me and I get to live here with you, and we can send your sister to school and be uncles to my sister's new baby and rebuild my grandfather's kingdom, all because we survived. And," he notched his chin on Erik's shoulder, "We even get to stand here and light a bunch of candles. Not because we have to, but because we _can._ Because we survived."

"Huh." Erik watched the little flames of the hannukiyah dance. They threw off so much light now, enough to read by, or to cook, or to do any number of tasks. But, he'd been told, that strictly forbidden. You weren't supposed to use the Hannukah lights for doing practical matters. Only for their own sake.

"I guess that's a good point after all," he admitted.

"I'm glad you approve," said El with a fond scoff.

Erik laid his hand over El's, covering the faded birthmark with his palm. Then he turned, and kissed El once, sweetly. "Here's to surviving," he said.

"To surviving." And El kissed him back.


End file.
